from the Night Counter
By Alia Yunis
The Night Counter, Fatima mocks the Arab American FBI agent
when she tells Fatima that she knows how to make grapeleaves.
Fatima laments that the only thing any American with Middle
Eastern or eastern Mediterranean blood knows how to make
grapeleaves—including her own daughters. But the fact
they at least do know how to roll grapeleaves, which is a
learned art, is a testament to how we pass on our heritage
through food, if nothing else. This is true of immigrants
and non-immigrants alike, from the Native Americans to the
latest arrivals from Central America.
of the dishes Fatima makes in The Night Counter would take
too much time for her children to do, especially her
kibbeh, in which she takes so much pride. So while I’ve
enclosed a recipe for kibbeh here, I’ve tried to include
some simpler dishes that are common in Lebanon and the surrounding
countries, particularly for mezza.
in the Middle East can last for hours because people keep
talking around the food, but the best part of a meal
is the beginning, the mezza. Mezza is the collection of appetizer
dishes served with warm pita bread and fresh juices. In
that drink alcohol, araq is also served. It is an anise-flavor
hard liquor served over ice similar to ouzo and available
at some liquor stores in the US. There are endless variations
of for mezza. For example, in my life, I’ve had a
least 50 versions of eggplant salad and probably will encounter
50 more still.
yes, I have also included not just one but two recipes
for grape leaves. Sahtein—that’s bon appetit
LAUNDRY DAY FOOD: MAJADERA
In The Night Counter, Amir promises his grandmother Fatima
that for dinner he is not eating quiche, or gay pie, as he
explains it to her, but rather majadera, a food with a whole
lot less glamour to it than quiche and a whole lot more gas.
But dress it down or dress it up, majadera is a perennial
favorite. Not because it’s cheap, easy, and fast. Not
even because it’s rich in vitamins and fiber and made
from ingredients that are always in the pantry. Those were
the reasons it was prized in the past. Today majadera is
simply good food.
is so easy to make that you shouldn’t serve
it to company, or at least that’s what my mother used
to say. She got that from her mother, who called it “laundry
day food,” because it was the only thing she had time
to make on the days she had to take care of the laundry of
a family of nine without the awareness that somewhere in
world laundry machines existed.
has come up in the world, as vegetarian food is no longer
for the poor man’s table. It seems to be more
standard in mezza today in all its variations. But the basic
recipe hasn’t changed, still pretty much the same, if
you can call it a recipe at all. You can use bulgur wheat
(my favorite) or the more common rice. You can serve it with
the lentils and rice still holding their shape or you can
cook it into a mush. But the one thing you can’t leave
out is the caramelized onions that must cover the top.
easy, and fast doesn’t usually mean great when
we talk about most things in life but there are always exceptions
and majadera is one.
Two cups lentils
One cup rice (or course grain bulgur wheat soaked for 10
Three large onions, thinly sliced
Salt, pepper to taste
the lentils with more than enough water to cover. When
the lentils are very soft, about 45 minutes to an hour,
the rice, and cook for another half hour, until rice is tender.
Remember to make sure there is enough water in the pan,
the rice absorbs so much. Also, don’t let it dry out—the
rice will absorb even more when it is done. Add salt and pepper
to taste (it will need a lot of salt). If you like, add a
little cumin, which isn’t traditional, but I know a
few people who use it.
Meanwhile, fry the onions until caramelized. Spread the
majadera on a platter and cover with the fried onions. Serve
with yogurt, pickles, peppers, and chopped tomato and cucumber
salad* on the side. Good hot, cold, or at room temperature.
*To Mexican-Americanize it a bit, salsa is an easy substitute
for the tomato and cumber salad salad.
BUSTED ON POSSESSION OF ZAATAR
I recently watched a news story from Australia in which a
Lebanese Australian called the confiscation of his mother-in-law’s
zaatar by Sydney airport customs officials “a tragedy”
and “a disaster” and when he still couldn’t
convince the officials to release the vacuum packed zaatar,
he told them he wanted to speak to a member of parliament.
There, but for the grace of more merciful US customs officials,
go I—and almost every other Arab American I know. Who
amongst us hasn’t had a mother or aunt get out a bag
of the stuff for our suitcases every time we journey off
Zaatar is a mixture of wild thyme and sesame seeds that,
mixed with olive oil, is an essential part of breakfast and
even supper in Lebanon, Palestine, Syria, and Jordan, and
beyond. It is tied with chocolate in my refrigerator as the
number one comfort food, and something most of the characters
in The Night Counter would have grown up eating for breakfast.
might not sound like much of concoction, but it has hundreds
of variations, with different thymes and different levels
of roasting or not roasting changing the flavors, not to
the unique mix of herbs added to zaatar that vary from village
to village. And there’s nothing that brings back
the Levant as unlocking that aroma in the bag your relative
into your suitcase.
is the most democratic of Middle Eastern foods, loved by
all classes and ages, as I always witness in Jordan at
Ismihan, a shop that offers over 15 varieties of zaatar,
which change with the seasons, all displayed in big wooden
from which customers diligently sample before picking the
varieties they’ll take home to make their own mixture
cuisine has hit the Middle East hard, like everywhere,
and now you’ll find zaatar being a seasoning for
almonds (kind of like Arabic Chex Mix), roasted chicken,
and countless other ideas, some more unfortunate than others,
although you can never go all that wrong with zaatar. But
perhaps the best way to eat zaatar is at the local bakery,
where it is mixed with olive oil and baked on flat bread
a wood burning oven and called manaeesh.
are a million zaatar stories, but I will end with this
one—there was a war-injured boy from the Middle
East in Los Angeles for treatment that was staying with me
for a few days. This was such a great kid and had just gotten
out the hospital, and so we laid before him—not just
me, but everyone else that took part in his care– all
the wonders and decadence of food in Los Angeles for him everyday,
but one day at breakfast he looked at it all, trying with
all his politeness to muster enthusiasm, and then gave up
and turned to me and said, “Don’t you have any
zaatar? Please.” And of course, I did.I’ve included
a great dough recipe for manaeesh, but you can easily make
these with Pillsbury pop ‘n fresh biscuits patted out
into mini pizzas. The important part isn’t the dough—it’s
the zaatar. When you go to a Middle Eastern grocery make sure
that it is a relatively fresh mix and that it’s not
too high in salt. In fact, you don’t need to even make
manaaesh. You can just cube some bread and have your guests
dip the bread in a mix of olive oil and zataar.
three 8" breads
For the dough:
1/2 tsp. active dry yeast
3 cups flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup vegetable oil, plus more for greasing sheet pan
For the topping:
1/4 cup green zaatar
6 tbsp. olive oil
1. For the dough: Dissolve yeast in 1/2 cup warm water in
a small bowl and set aside until foamy, about 10 minutes.
Combine flour and salt in a large bowl. Add milk, 1/2 cup
of the oil, 2 tbsp. warm water, and yeast mixture and stir
until a dough forms. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured
surface and knead until smooth, 10-15 minutes. Shape dough
into a ball, dust with flour, then transfer to a large clean
bowl. Cover bowl with a clean damp kitchen towel and set aside
in a warm spot to rest until dough has doubled in bulk, 1-2
2. For the topping: Mix zaatar and oil together in a medium
bowl and set aside.
Preheat oven to 400°. Lightly grease a sheet pan
with some vegetable oil and set aside. Turn dough out onto
a clean surface, divide into thirds, and shape each piece
of dough into a ball. Roll 1 dough ball out on a lightly floured
surface into an 8" round and transfer to prepared sheet
pan. Using your fingertips, make indentations all over surface
of dough, then brush with a generous amount of the topping.
Bake flat bread until lightly browned and crisp around the
edges, about 10 minutes. Repeat rolling out, indenting, topping,
and baking process with remaining dough balls and topping
mixture, greasing baking sheet with more oil as needed. Serve
warm or at room temperature.
Mathematics and Olive Oil
In The Night Counter, Fatima is fixated on numbers and it
is something that runs through the family for five generations.
She thinks about math when’s she’s cooking, too,
as any woman who raised 10 kids probably would—how
much to make for each one, how much it was costing, and so
And how many bottles of olive oil to order at the Middle
Eastern market is certainly something necessary to be calculated,
much as her ancestors would have wondered each year how much
olive oil their crops would yield.
cannot run a Middle Eastern home without olive oil. It
goes on everything and is said to be the key to long life—in
fact, some senior citizens drink a little shot of it every
morning to keep themselves going physically and mentally.
people ask me anything in the book is autobiographical,
and I can honestly say no ,but there is a tendency for
people I’m related to have a thing for math. Me, I
was flustered yesterday trying to help my 10-year old nephew
algebra I vaguely recall doing in 8th grade, which was a
long time ago for my brain cells. But I had a good time with
math word problems with my seven-year old nephew, perhaps
because they involve olive oil.
#1 OLIVE OIL MATH PROBLEM
Fatima has a problem. For the last 50 years her neighbor Millie
has been a very good friend and has entertained her for many
hours with her silly jokes. Millie’s about to celebrate
her 70th birthday and Fatima wants to give Millie something
that will give her a taste of Lebanon. She has 40 bottles
of her village’s olive oil of which she has promised
her cousin Dalal half of her final inventory. She would like
to give Millie 10 bottles for her birthday. If she wants
keep as many as possible for herself should she first give
Dalal half and then give Millie 10 or should she reverse
order in which she gives away the bottles?
#2 MANAEESH PARTY
A shop in the Middle East offers the following toppings for
manaeesh: cheese, zaatar, sesame seeds, olives, and labaneh.
In addition to ordering a plain flatbread, you can order any
number of toppings, even all five (which I don’t think
anyone in the Middle East ever has).
How many different kinds of manaeesh do you have to choose
ANSWER TO #1: Fatima is a pretty frugal woman. She realizes
that if she first gives Millie a gift of 10 she will be left
with 30 bottles of which she promised half (30/2 = 15) to
40 – (10
+ 15) = 15 bottles left for Fatima
If she would give the bottles away in the reverse order
she would be giving Princess cousin Dalal half of 40 (40/2
= 20) and then giving Millie 10 as a gift.
40 – (20
+ 10) = 10 bottles left for Fatima.
By giving Millie the gift of 10 first she is left with 5
extra bottles of her fantastic olive oil for herself
ANSWER TO #2: You can choose from 32 different manaeesh.
Here are the possible combinations: 1 plain, 5 with one topping,
10 with two toppings, 10 with three toppings, 5 with four
toppings, and 1 with five toppings.
HOW TO TEACH AN FBI AGENT TO MAKE HUMMOS
In The Night Counter, Fatima is baffled by the FBI agent that
visits her at home and claims to have a Middle Eastern background
but doesn’t know how to make hummos. A couple of years
ago I wrote an article for Saveur about hummos and my own
mother’s bafflement at its Americanization of hummos,
i.e. the need of U.S. manufacturers to give everything a “flavor,”
as if it didn’t have enough flavor on its own. There’s
really no need for wasabi, pesto, olive tapenade, and pimento
hummos. It’s at its finest when its just the four ingredients
man originally intended it to be: chickpeas, tahini, lemon
juice, salt and MAYBE garlic.
when I wrote the article, I researched and learned a lot
about hummos, but today I’m an expert on how to
survive on it. For my first year in Abu Dhabi, was my main
meal for probably 5 out of the 7 days of the week. With everything
being new to me, it became my comfort food and a staple that
didn’t make me simultaneously overwhelmed and underwhelmed,
like a lot of the multi-ethnic dishes that mirror the multi-ethnic
world of Abu Dhabi. I’m a food adventurer, but sometimes
you don’t want adventure. Hummos is just simple and
uncomplicated, unlike everything else during the day. And
its even comforting to know that the same guy will be at the
cashier at the Lebanese Mill and you’ll chat Middle
East politics while you wait for your order. And it’s
the cashier at the Lebanese Mill that told me one day, “You’ve
been looking too pale lately—go get a blood test.”
Turned out, he was right, I was very anemic. Hummos is pretty
nutritious, but you can’t –or probably shouldn’t–live
on hummos alone.
how Fatima expected the FBI agent to make hummos:
3 C. boiled chickpeas (or four cups, if planning on
removing skins or using food mill).
1/2 cup tahini
3 to 4 T. freshly squeezed lemon juice (to taste)
1 small clove of garlic, crushed in mortar and pestle with
Salt to taste
Remove skins from chickpeas (optional). Place chickpeas
in food processor and puree until the beans form a smooth
paste (or process in food mill). Puree beans for at least
two minutes, pausing to scrap down bowl. In a large bowl,
mix chickpea puree with tahini and lemon juice. If mixture
is too thick, add a tablespoon of warm water. Place the mixture
in a soup bowl and swish the hummos up the sides, creating
a wide well in the center. Drizzle generously with extra virgin
olive oil, leaving a little extra in the well. Garnish with
paprika. Place a teaspoon or so of parsley in the well. Serve
with pita bread, pickles, and olives on the side.
An Ingrained Tradition: Kibbeh
For all special occasions, Fatima prides herself on the kibbeh
she makes. That makes her like many women in the Middle East
who have mastered the art of this rather complex food.
my family, no party is ever complete without a platter
of my Aunt Suad’s kibbeh, a Middle Eastern mixture of
finely ground bulgar, onion, and lamb or beef that is, most
commonly, formed into a patty or ball, stuffed with cinnamon
and sumac-spiked meat, then fried, baked, or grilled. When
I ask Aunt Suad for the secret to her recipe she shows me
her hands: It is widely believed that the thinner the shell,
the better the kibbeh, and legend goes that a bride with long
fingers is particularly prized, for she has the necessary
assets to carefully form a thin enough outer layer to envelop
but not overshadow the flavorful, moist center. In fact, the
word kibbeh actually derives from the Arabic verb kebkeb “to
called the national dish of Lebanon and Syria, kibbeh is
one of the most versatile concepts in Middle Eastern cookery,
and recipes for it have existed for centuries, when the
of bulgar to meat may have been a way to make the precious
commodity last longer. (It is also made with fish in Iraq).
In villages across the Levant, the preparation of kibbeh
once a communal event, and the sound of the pounding together
of meat and bulgar in huge mortars could be heard throughout
small towns. Today kibbeh is, for the most part, prepared
by home cooks or in restaurants and it comes in many forms.
To save time some people simply spread the mixture in a
and bake it. As a main dish, kibbeh is frequently simmered
in mint-laced yogurt, and as an appetizer or, as Miriam
for Rock’s birthday, it is often served tartare-style,
drizzled with olive oil, sprinkled with mint, and scooped
up with raw onion wedges. But it is the crispy, warm, deep-fried
kibbeh (aqras kibbeh maqliyya) that is most often served
guests, not only as part of the mezze at Arabic restaurants,
but also an essential part of the buffet at weddings, family
gatherings, and other festive occasions throughout the Middle
1 kilo high quality, very lean beef or lamb (if lamb, lean
leg of lamb is
1 kilo fine ground bulgar wheat
1 medium onion.
2 T salt
1 t. allspice
1 t. cinnamon
1/2 t. black pepper
1 C. cold water
2 medium-size onions chopped
1/2 kilo ground sirloin
1/2 t. cinnamon
salt to taste
2 T. sumac
1/4 c. olive oil
1/2 c. pine nuts or chopped walnuts
Shell: Rinse the bulgar wheat with water and squeeze out
water. Grind the meat in an electric mixer twice. Finely chop
the onion. Mix the spices with the onion. Knead the meat,
bulgar wheat, and onion together with your hands then put
through the electric grinder once. Gradually add the cold
water to the mixture kneading until it is smooth and pliable
like bread dough (you may not need all the water). Cover the
kibbeh with cloth towel so that it does not dry out. Stuffing:
Sautee the onion in the oil until soft and translucent. Add
the ground meat and cook through, 10 to 15 minutes. Add cinnamon,
allspice, and salt to meat a couple minutes before it is done
browning. Take off heat and mix in nuts and sumac. When stuffing
is cool enough to work with, you may begin making the kibbeh.
the kibbe "dough" into balls the size of
an egg. Keep them covered with a towel, so they do not dry
out. Form each "egg" into an oval shell by inserting
your index finger into the "egg" and turning it
around until it forms a thin oval with an open end. Use your
other hand to hold the kibbeh as you turn. Dip your fingers
in cold water to help prevent the kibbeh from breaking. Take
a teaspoonful of the stuffing and put into the shell. Seal
the shell. Do this with remaining "eggs," keeping
everything covered so it does not dry out. Deep fry the balls
in hot oil for a few minutes, until they turn a dark, golden
brown (a color halfway between dark brown sugar and light
brown sugar) Put on paper towel to drain. Serve at room temperature
with yogurt on the side, if desired.
recipe should make about 20. Fatima’s Freezing
Tip: It is bet to freeze the kibbeh before frying it, and
fry it a few hours before serving.
One of the last things I did last fall during a visit
to Jordan was to go into the backyard of my family’s
home to see if another fig was ready for the picking.
was also the first thing I’d done when I arrived
there, upon my mother’s insistence. We’re a family
that gets pretty excited about blooming fruit.
I certainly also embraced the apples on their tree and
the grapes on their vines, there’s something magical
about the fig, perhaps because it’s so hard to find
in its green and pink perfection of sweetness, unless you
literally have a tree in your back yard. I had never been
in Jordan at this time of year, and so the last time I had
had this privilege was years ago when I had lived in Athens
and Beirut, where peddlers used to walk by with carts teeming
with freshly picked figs. I understood better then Fatima’s
obsession with the fig tree in The Night Counter than I had
before. So while the fig was Fatima’s eureka moment,
I had mine picking a fig off a tree in Jordan—I learned
that it is possible for a writer to understand her characters
even more after she’s literally closed the book on
my uncle came over later that day, he went off on another
book, talking about how the figs leaf outfits and numerous
other references to figs shared by the “people of the
book” or Old Testament, as it is better known in the
so fascinating when you consider that those Bibliocal stores
were pretty much set in the neighborhood where we were
sitting. If we were just talking figs, those stories could
have also been set in California, the U.S.’s fig supplier.
But because figs are so delicate, it’s hard to even
get them to the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market in tact,
let alone deliver them to the rest of the country. The difficulty
of transporting them is why it was possible for me have a
conversation with my Florida-born nephew once in which he
said, “I know raisins come from grapes, but what do
figs come from?” “Figs,” I answered. “But
before they were figs, what were they?” Even if I could
have torn him away from his Xbox to get a fresh-ish fig one
at the finest grocery stores in town, it wouldn’t have
been juicy and bright pink. It’d have been a little
tired and a lot happier if it had been allowed to dry up
go into his Cliff Bar.
are scores of recipes for fresh figs, but really that seems
wasteful. Figs are perfect just as they are. But if
you do insist on jazzing them up a bit, a side of white cheese
is really all you need. If it’s not fig season, try
a dried fig and nut confection from a Middle Eastern shop
with the white cheese.
FOUL FOR FOOLS AND OTHERS
In The Night Counter, Laila goes to the Arabic grocery in
Detroit and decides for the first time in her marriage not
to buy the ingredients to make her Egyptian husband foul.
you write it out from Arabic as “foul”
or “fool,” I’ll grant you that it doesn’t
sound very appetizing in English. But foul medamos is actually
a staple of much of the Middle East, particularly Egypt, and
an appreciated breakfast or late night dinner served up with
hot pita. Also know as “people’s food” because
of its affordability, foul can be made so many different ways.
The only absolutely necessary ingredient that Laila or anyone
else making foul would definitely need is the foul itself,
which is dried fava beans that have been boiled until soft.
(Fava beans are also a key ingredient of another “people’s
shops in the Middle East ladle up the steaming hot beans
in a bowl and let you decide how to dress them—lemon
juice and olive oil are a given, as is garlic usually. But
from there, you can go a lot of different ways—some
like to mix it up with green chilis, others like to stir in
chickpeas, still others prefer a swirl of tahini or to scoop
it up with raw onions, some like it warm, some like it hot.
Here’s the way I imagine Laila would make it.
1 16-oz can fava beans, drained and rinsed
1 small red bell pepper, finely diced
1 small green bell pepper, finely diced
1 bunch of green onions, sliced
1 Persian-style cucumber, seeded and diced (optional)
1⁄4 c. of chopped flat leaf parsley
Juice of two lemons
6 T. olive oil
1 clove garlic, crushed.
1t ground cumin
1⁄4 t. red pepper –or to taste
Salt to taste
together the lemon juice, olive oil, garlic, cumin, red
pepper and salt into a dressing. Add the fava beans, peppers,
onions, and cucumber. Mix together gently so that the beans
don’t fall apart. Add in the parsley. Serve at room
temperature or chilled, but allow at least half an hour
flavors to mix.
marked the cucumber as optional, but really it’s
all optional. In fact, I think I’ve been known to make
the same thing but using black beans and corn instead of
fava beans and calling it a Mexican salad. Of course, that
brings me to my theory of the continents being connected
via the similarity in recipes that seem to be so dominant
in both Egypt and Mexico. Of course, war, occupation and
could also explain that away. But I digress.
What It’s Supposed to Be
Tabouli and hommus are probably the two most consistently
present foods at a mezza—and the two that have found
their way into US markets in some rather odd formations. I
won’t give you a recipe for tabouli, but if you adjust
the American recipe you have with the tips below, I hope you’ll
be inspired. I’ll tell you what taboubli is not: It
is not chunky, it is not mostly bulgar wheat or quinoa, and
parsley is not the garnish (it’s the essence).
Tips for Making Great Tabouli:
it five parts finely chopped parsley (always flat leaf)
to one part finely chopped mint. You can use the food
processor but be careful not to get parts of it to puree.
That’s just yuck.
- Very finely chop the onion and mix with lemon and soaked
bulgar wheat (the fine grain kind)
- Use a lot less bulgar than an U.S. recipe calls for and
make sure soak it for at 20-30 minutes before you add it.
- For that extra something something: a couple of dashes
Grapeleaves: Two of a Kind
When Laila sits down to roll grapeleaves with her father in
The Night Counter, she is committing the only normal ritual
of the day—rolling grapeleaves is a family bonding time
passed through generations. We roll, we talk, we teach, and
at the end enjoy our communal effort. While there many variations
of grapeleaves, in the Levant it comes down to basic versions,
one meatless and served at room temperature and one with meat,
Have plenty of grapeleaves on hand, and if you end up with
too many, just toss them over the top of the pan. If you end
up with too much stuffing, finishing it off by stuffing a
tomato, which you can put in with the grapeleaves.
Vegetarian Filling Ingredients:
Two medium tomatoes, diced
1 medium onion, diced
3/4 cup of medium grain rice
1 bunch of fresh parsley chopped
1⁄2 bunch chopped mint (optional)
Juice of one to two lemons
1 1/2 teaspoons allspice or to taste (or you may use Arabic
7-spice powder, available at Middle Eastern markets)
1 1/2 teaspoons of salt or to taste
1/2 cup of olive oil (or a bit more)
cup uncooked medium grain rice, rinsed
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon allspice
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 pounds lean ground lamb or beef
Two tablespoons chopped parsley (optional)
1 to 2 jars of grapeleaves or about 60 fresh grapeleaves
1 sliced tomato
1 sliced potato (vegetarian)
1 sliced lemon
Juice of one lemon
Take few grapeleaves and line them up in the bottom of the
pan, top with a layer of sliced tomato--and a layer of potato
for the vegetarian version.
If you are using fresh grape leaves, soak them in hot water
and some salt for half an hour, or until completely soft.
If you are using the ones that you buy in the jar, soak them
in warm water for few minutes then let them drain. Cut off
the stems completely.
all the ingredients for the stuffing together—you
will need to use your hands! Lay a leaf plate on a dinner
plate, vein side up. Add the filling in thin line in the middle
of the leaf, then fold the sides and roll while pressing a
bit to let the juice out and also to make it a bit tight so
it doesn't fall apart. Tuck the ends in as you roll, like
a burrito. Keep in mind that rice expands, so you don’t
want to overstuff the grapeleaves. Place each leaf over the
potatoes or tomatoes and then over each other as the bottom
layer fills up. Top with the sliced lemon. Get a dinner or
desert plate that can fit inside the pan, flip it upside down
and place it on top of the grape leaves to press them so when
they start cooking they don't fall apart. Add enough hot water
just to cover them, fit lid on tightly and bring to boil.
For the vegetarian version, let them cook on medium low heat
for about 20 minutes—more if the grapeleaves are tough—until
the rice is tender. For the meat version cook on very low
heat for about an hour after the water comes to a boil. When
finished cooking (you may have to drain out excess water
add water during cooking), squeeze the juice of one lemon
over the grapeleaves.
serve, flip the pan over onto a serving platter. Tap the
bottom of the pan, so that everything comes out like a
pilaf—this is traditional but takes a little practice
and isn’t necessary, aside from the nice presentation
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